Heavy Wings Will Only Weigh You Down
by friendfinn
Summary: Steven attempts to teach May how to survive in a position where all anybody wants to do is beat you.
1. Day 1: Sweet

**Day 1: Sweet**

 **Timeline: Begins after player (May) becomes Champion, before Steven leaves, after Team Magma 'redemption'.**

 **May starts her Pokémon journey at 18, becomes Champion at 19, and is 21 by the end of this fic. Steven is 24 when May becomes Champion and 25 by the end of this fic.**

* * *

 _Day 1: He's impressed, because she's bitter like bitter **sweet** chocolate._

* * *

CHAMPION MAY CITES STEVEN STONE AS MENTOR AND INSPIRATION

That was the first time she'd ever mentioned me in an interview. I didn't think much of it when I picked up the magazine from the Poké Mart and saw her face on the front cover; May was always very good at being the celebrity Hoenn wanted to hear about. But I hadn't expected to see my own name featured. I'd stopped being headline news quite a while ago.

DEVON CORP. HEIR STILL RETAINS CLOSE TIES TO THE LEAGUE

I suppose I should have been flattered to know I'd made such an impression on her. But, instead, the brief article made me feel a little chilled, as if somehow she'd gotten to know me much better than I'd gotten to know her. May was… an intriguing person, it's true, and I'd wanted to be her friend, had really made an effort to help her along. I'd had a feeling she was looking to challenge the Champion- when you _are_ the Champion, you get to know the type- although the topic had never come up in our rare conversations over the course of two years. I knew that she had a good bond with her Pokémon, and that she was efficient, sweeping through the gyms at a startlingly fast rate even for a talented trainer. I knew that she was good at acting. I even knew her well enough to be able to tell when she was hiding something, which was more and more of the time these days.

But me, an _inspiration?_ Had she seen something in me that I'd failed to notice myself? Or was she just playing up the relationship between us to please the media? Had I ever given her my permission to do that?

I wasn't sure.

I saw the interview on TV the next time I dropped by a Pokémon Center. Onscreen, May was as radiant as ever, as much of a faker as ever, giving the interviewer a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"The first thing he ever gave me was a Steel Wing TM, which I think is symbolic," she told him. "It's thanks to him that I was able to fly to the heights I have."

Again, I should have been touched. Instead, I thought, _bullshit._ May called me her mentor, her teacher, but we both knew that was a lie and a challenge and an unpaid debt. I couldn't believe she was calling me out to pay it now. Somewhere along the way, I'd grown to owe her something, and I didn't know how it happened or what it was that I owed, only that it was something I'd miss when I gave it to her.

"Has the constant pressure of being Champion made you bitter at all?" asked the interviewer, offering her the mic. She tipped her head, innocent to a T, as if she didn't even know the meaning of the word.

"I wouldn't say so!" she told him. "That's a very personal question, you know, but I don't mind answering it. It's definitely a heavy responsibility, but I've had a lot of help and support from others."

"So there's nobody you hold a grudge against?" the man asked her, almost teasing, more familiar than he'd got any right to be because that was the script.

"There's nothing to hold a grudge about!" said May, and I couldn't tell if _that_ was the script or not, and watching this was starting to make my stomach hurt, so I went to have my Pokémon healed and pretended I couldn't hear the TV behind me as they started talking about Team Magma- _my_ failure, which I didn't want to think about.

TEAM MAGMA LEADER LOSES TO TEENAGE PKMN TRAINER; STEVEN STONE CONSPICUOUSLY ABSENT

* * *

Even so, the next time I saw her, I asked her about the interview.

"Oh, that?" She laughed, treating me like she treated the man on TV, and I could feel myself being brushed off. "Well, you _are_ my inspiration, Steven. I hope you don't mind that I mentioned you."

"Not at all." I couldn't even resent her for lying, because I was doing the same. I _did_ mind. "But I was surprised that you spoke of me so highly." That, at least, was the truth. I didn't expect a straight answer, but I looked at her anyway, waiting.

"Don't be modest," she chided, legs swinging from the table as she riffled casually through the papers we discussed at this meeting. "It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not being modest," I protested, allowing myself to inevitably get drawn into disagreeing with her. "I'm being truthful. For your supposed teacher, I did precious little teaching, wouldn't you agree?"

Her eyes narrowed, although she was still smiling, and I knew I'd broached a topic I wasn't supposed to mention. "I learned plenty from you, Steven," she said, as if challenging me to contradict her again. "Just because you didn't do any deliberate teaching doesn't mean that you didn't teach me things."

The thought of May learning from my _behavior_ made my teeth hurt. I wasn't a good Champion- I spent all my time looking for rocks while wearing expensive three-piece suits, I didn't tie the League to Devon Corp. like they'd wanted me to, and I didn't go easy on challengers like I was supposed to, which is probably the only reason I'd held the title as long as I had. I didn't go to parties. I shied away from publicity. Once I'd panicked and thrown a rock at a reporter's camera. The Elite Four had had a ball trying to hush that one up.

 _My point being_ , not only was I a terrible role model for a young, promising new Champion, I was nothing like May at all. I couldn't see myself in her. At first, I'd wanted to be more like _her,_ not her to be more like _me_. Now, I wasn't even sure of that.

"You lied during that interview," I said. It wasn't intended to be an accusation- I'd said it mildly- but she stiffened anyway, her hands tightening on the sheaf of papers she held.

"So what if I did?" she said, looking down at her dangling feet. "It's what they wanted to hear."

"There's no way you're not resentful about _something,"_ I prodded, walking around the table to sit down in the chair nearest to her. She looked away from me, her gaze apparently fixed on a spot on the floor somewhere, her eyebrows furrowed as if she really did have to think hard to find a speck of resentment inside herself.

"I resent you," she said, presently, looking back at me, her eyes hard. I wasn't surprised that she'd feel that way, but I hadn't expected her to say it so bluntly; I'm sure the shock showed on my face, although I tried to hide it. "If you'd done your job as Champion and gotten rid of Team Magma, I wouldn't have had to do it for you and none of that whole catastrophe would ever have happened."

We'd had this conversation before, but it was always surprising to me how clinical she was about it. _Gotten rid of._ Like it was that easy to destroy an idea that pervasive. We could have imprisoned, or even killed, every member of the organization, and their ideas would still have lived on. Oh, of course I should have made more of an effort, we all should have- I wasn't about to deny my own guilt- but sometimes I wondered if maybe the shock of Groudon actually rising, the actual occurrence of the natural disaster, was what it really took to get rid of Team Magma.

I couldn't say that to anyone, of course, being myself and guilty. But I thought about it a lot. And of course, nobody would let May forget about it either; there had been plenty of headlines about her even before she'd become Champion, because of her feat in the Cave of Origin.

EIGHTEEN-YEAR-OLD BESTS LEGENDARY POKéMON

TRAINER MAY ONE OF THE ONLY PEOPLE ALIVE TO HAVE BEEN IN CAVE OF ORIGIN

TEAM MAGMA VANQUISHED BY TEENAGER

When one is Champion, one has certain means of escaping media attention, but back then May had just won her eighth badge. It was her first brush with the kind of fame she was now used to experiencing on a daily basis. She was absolutely stormed by reporters; it couldn't have been a pleasant experience. And, of course, part of her appeal was the whole 'unlikely hero' theme; politicians across the region were using her as a figurehead to attack the League, the government, and, well, me. It would have been easy for her to hate me, easy for her to give into the pressure. But the only statement she ever made about the issue in public was that "Somebody had to do it, and it might as well have been me!"

"You don't like being a hero?" I asked her, because an apology would have been the wrong thing to say, and there was nothing I could use in my defense anyway. "You don't like the publicity, or the responsibility?"

"It's not that," she said, thoughtfully, and folded her hands in her lap. She accepted the label of 'hero' without question. "For a hero to exist, first there has to be a problem for the hero to solve. If it means the problem wouldn't have existed, or would have been solved earlier, I'd rather not have become a hero."

It was an impressive thing to say, but I wasn't impressed. I was worried. The way she spoke was concerning- it was half-wistful, as if she didn't even know who she was talking to, as if she was just musing to herself. May, as I mentioned, was good at acting. The things she spoke always depended on the person she was speaking them to. I felt like I'd been pulling the trigger of a gun and my finger had just stopped, right before the gun went off, and if I moved, or said something at all, I'd kill her.

"So, yeah, I did lie," she said eventually, looking straight at me. She didn't sound ashamed. "And I am bitter. Are you surprised?"

"No," I said, because it was what she wanted to hear, but I think I _was_ surprised. Of course I'd known that the mask she put on for the public wasn't the 'real her', as you might say, but to some extent I'd absorbed the words she'd said, over and over again.

"Ha, I thought you would say that." She smiled at me again, and I felt like I'd said something right, even though I knew I probably hadn't. Talking to May was always a little bit difficult- me, feeling like I didn't know her at all, and also feeling like she knew everything about me without having to ask. I wasn't sure how to think about her. "Do I come off as bitter, then?" she asked me.

I considered this. She'd said it flippantly, like a joke, but it made me think nonetheless- did she? Certainly, she wasn't _all_ innocent- having a career in pitting Pokémon against each other and dealing with the dizzying heights of fame at the age of eighteen tended to change that- but there was a measure of genuine sweetness in her that showed through when she was faking things. Maybe that's why she was so good at lying. The trick to lying, as she had told me once, was that there needed to be some measure of truth in it.

"Bitter like bittersweet chocolate, maybe," I said, a humorous answer to a casual question. "In an appealing way."

She stared at me for a second, and I wondered if maybe it'd been an odd thing to say. I'd wanted to make her laugh.

"Snobbish people and socialites enjoy it," I added, and then she cracked a smile. We gave each other tentative smiles for a few seconds.

"I like that," she finally said, smirking, her brown eyes open and attentive again, as if she hadn't told me just five minutes ago that she resented me. "Sweet, but also bitter. Very accurate."

We lapsed into an awkward silence- awkward for me, that is. She seemed perfectly at ease with making me uncomfortable, staring straight ahead at the bland wall of the meeting room. I ran the tip of my tongue along the edges of my teeth. She seemed so imperturbable that it didn't even feel impolite to stare at her; the curve of her hair, the tug at the corner of her lips. It was like admiring a piece of art, not a human person.

"I _was_ telling the truth about you, though, Steven," she said openly, propping her elbows on her knees and looking at me intently. "You really _have_ taught me a lot. I do think that Steel Wing TM is symbolic."

I laughed. "If it _is_ symbolic, the only thing it's symbolic of is that I should have helped you more," I told her. "Steel Wing isn't a flying move, May, it's an attacking move. You can't do any flying with metal wings that weigh you down to the ground."

May was snickering, now. "You can't even take a compliment? How petty," she complained. "Maybe what I _needed_ then was something to anchor me to land. Maybe I was too quick to try and fly away from everything."

I stared at her, confused, turning her words over in my mind. _Maybe I was too quick to try and fly away from everything._ What did that mean? Did I want to assume anything? What could May have been flying away from, that I'd tethered her down to the ground?

CHAMPION MAY SOARS TO NEW HEIGHTS IN LILYCOVE POKéMON CONTEST

DEVON CORP FUNDS REPAIR TO SOOTOPOLIS CITY

TRAINER MAY: "HOENN IS MY HOME."

"You're still not satisfied, are you." May was wearing a disappointed pout, like this whole conversation had been some kind of test, and I'd failed it. It was, to be honest, just one in a long chain of failures when it came to trying to figure her out. She hadn't asked me a question, but I felt like there was some kind of answer she was looking for; I searched for something to say, but then she beat me to it, letting her feet touch the floor as she turned to face me.

"Fine," she said quickly, both palms on the table, and now it sounded like a challenge. "You don't feel like you taught me anything, right? Then earn the title of 'teacher' and teach me how to do something."

"What do you want to learn?" I asked. She smiled, bittersweet.

"Teach me how to run away," she said.

* * *

 **so i'm about as prepared for daiharu week (on tumblr) as i am for final exams, which is NOT AT ALL  
this story has seven chapters, one for each day, and i don't think i did a great job following the prompts but there are prompts  
no beta, i apologize in advance hahahaha ha**

 **hopefully i'll be able to post the chapters on the days i'm supposed to. i don't know. i have final exams next week. my brain is fried.**

 **thanks for reading.**


	2. Day 2: Dance

**Day 2: Dance**

* * *

 _Politics is like a **dance**. Don't trip._

* * *

Two weeks later. Meeting at Ever Grande. May and I were working on the Eco-terrorism Prevention Act, which felt a little like buying flowers for your ex-fiancé, but the government had deemed it necessary. Unfortunately, the powers that be had apparently decided that since the Elite Four and Champion were the best Trainers in the region, they were also the most qualified people to check over 56 pages of fine print for "loopholes and oversights related to the training and battling of Pokémon".

Not so.

ETPA TO GO THROUGH ELITE FOUR ON WEDNESDAY

PROTECTION FOR RED AND BLUE ORBS TO BE DISCUSSED

FORMER LEADER OF TEAM MAGMA REFUSES TO MAKE STATEMENT

Right now, Sidney was absentmindedly strumming on his guitar and Drake was absentmindedly humming some old sea shanty, and neither of them were particularly on-tune, which was making Glacia shoot positively knife-like looks at them. She had refused to bring out one of her Ice-types to cool off the room, which felt like the inside of Mt. Chimney- I don't know what happened to "state-of-the-art air conditioning", but, at any rate, I didn't blame Glacia for wanting to make sure her Pokémon didn't leave the meeting as puddles.

Except I did blame her, because surely it's a crime to be suffering from borderline heatstroke with the top Ice-type trainer in the region sitting next to you and filing down her nails. If Wallace had offered me one of his stupid revealing outfits, I would have taken it in a heartbeat. That's how bad it was.

Could we have refused to do this? Well, sure. Could we have fudged the job and left in a matter of minutes? Absolutely. Could we all be basking on the beaches of Sootopolis City right now, sipping chilled, mildly alcoholic drinks and enjoying summer in Hoenn? Yes, if not for one thing- namely, the pesky little promise May had made _the insane leader of Team Magma_ to help reform his _extremely illegal gang_ into a _humanitarian nongovernmental organization_.

And May could be very, very persuasive when she wanted to be.

So we were all trying our hardest for her sake, and by extension, for Team Magma's sake. Although, to be fair, 'trying our hardest' was a stretch.

"What's this bit about the Red and Blue orbs?" Phoebe said with a frown, holding up a piece of paper that looked exactly like all the other pieces of paper. "Are they going to take them away from my grandparents?"

"Well, to be fair, two old people aren't exactly the best protection ever for two historic relics that could destroy the world," pointed out Sidney, not entirely unreasonably.

ELITE FOUR PHOEBE'S GRANDPARENTS INTERROGATED

CHAMPION MAY ENDORSES "NEW TEAM MAGMA"

LEADER WALLACE: "I DON'T SEE WHY THEY HAVE TO KEEP THE NAME."

I rested my chin in my hands as they began to bicker and stared at May. She was diligently reading Section 2.3, a tiny smile on her face. I had never pegged her as the activism type, but ever since the debacle in the Cave of Origin, she'd affiliated herself with a lot of different groups and people; I'd heard she was even in contact with Red, the famous trainer who'd defeated Team Rocket in Johto and Kanto. She kept coming to me with complex political questions that I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to answer for her or not.

Even now, as I watched her, she looked up and searched for me a second with her eyes. "Steven, can we push for further protection of potentially disaster-causing Pokémon, in the case of an emergency?"

"You _can_ ," I said, uncertainly. "Whether it will have any effect, I can't say. The nature of Pokémon like Groudon and Kyogre is not to be able to be permanently damaged, anyway."

"Well, sure, but when have humans ever respected the nature of anything?" asked May, not bitterly but matter-of-factly, with a thoughtful look back at the paper.

I laughed, shortly, because it seemed like the only response to a question like that. The corners of May's eyes crinkled slightly.

"The government's first priority has to be the people- the humans of Hoenn," I said, returning to skimming my own stack of papers- May was making me feel guilty for not working. "You're a Trainer- you should know that Pokémon are designed to be subjugated by force." Wasn't that our whole career- battling Pokémon until one of them couldn't harm the other any more?

"Are they, though?" May said, vaguely, turning the page.

MAY DONATES 10k POKé TO POKéMON SHELTER

ARE THE INCUMBENT ELITE FOUR PREVENTING A CHANGE IN THE FACE OF BATTLING?

COMPETITION A PHYSICAL NEED IN POKéMON DNA?

"Pokémon are peaceful creatures," May continued, still staring down at the paper, although by now it seemed that she wasn't even reading it, just looking in that general direction. Her eyes were glassy. "I guess humans would say they're not. That they exist to fight. But if they really exist to fight, so what? If they don't mean harm by battling each other, can you really call that 'meaningless violence'?" Her gaze snapped back into focus all of a sudden, and she glanced at me curiously, apparently not especially bothered by the weight of the words in her mouth. "But how can you tell the intentions of a Pokémon? We'll never know for sure," she sighed.

There was a short pause.

"I think," I finally said, cautiously, "that you're trying to unravel two ideas from each other that shouldn't really be separated."

"That's fair," said May, looking at her hands. "Maybe you're right."

I listened to Drake and Sidney talk, at the other end of the table. The heat pressed down on my shoulders, making the back of my neck feel sticky. I watched May fidget with the papers; her fingers were leaving little damp indents on the edge of the document, even though she looked perfectly cool and composed in the stifling-hot room.

"Then again, the world is large," I said, quietly. "Certainly, it's unwise to set a limit on the possibility of pain… or happiness. Not when we are still so ignorant of other lives."

May suddenly looked up and gave me a dazzling smile, which startled me. I glanced at the Elite Four, half-expecting them to be staring this way; not to be awfully cliché, but the fact was that her smile was _magnetic_ , hopelessly attention-grabbing, like a radio signal. But they were still arguing obliviously amongst themselves, and we were only in a room in a building, and she was still only herself. There were no huge hunks of iron or flocks of migratory Pokémon crashing through the ceiling towards us. We were alone.

"Steven," May said, her eyes wide all of a sudden, "would you help me with something?"

I surveyed her open expression. "Does it have to do with running away?" I asked, keeping my face totally straight.

She laughed.

* * *

SHOCKING NUMBER OF VOLUNTEERS FLOCK TO 'REFORMED' TEAM MAGMA

"Why am I here, May?"

I stared at the former leader of the criminal organization Team Magma. He stared back at me.

"I need your help with this," pressed May, vaguely, tugging on my arm. She looked between the two of us with a bright smile. "Maxie, this is the former Champion, Steven Stone. Steven, this is the great Maxie."

"I… know," I said, anticlimactically, after a short pause.

"A pleasure, I'm sure, Mr Stone," Maxie said dryly, sounding almost amused, and I almost looked behind me; nobody ever called me _Mr Stone._ Disconcerted, I actually backed up a step and almost tripped over a woman carrying a tray of rusty-looking metal pieces. _Arceus,_ it was hot in here. I'd never seen so many people working in one room without Pokémon. Where was the heat coming from? We were underground. In a Team Magma hideout. Although I wasn't sure if this even counted as a hideout- it seemed too high-tech.

"I wish you had warned me you were going to do this _before_ we did it," I hissed to May, not caring whether I was being rude or not. She gave me a challenging look.

"Where'd the fun be in that?" she said, pushing my arm playfully. She seemed to be in a very good mood. "You already agreed to help me, Steven, remember, so don't back out now!"

I looked at her, then looked at Maxie. What was I supposed to say to that? _Hi, Maxie, I'm Steven Stone. You're welcome for not dismantling your criminal organization earlier, so that you could have the opportunity to almost destroy the world._ I decided that silence was the best option. I gave Maxie a polite, horribly stiff nod.

When it became apparent that neither of us were going to extend courtesies beyond that, Maxie turned to May, grabbing a large whiteboard on wheels and pulling it over to us.

"We have not yet managed to determine whether the absence of Groudon from the ecosystem is having any effect," Maxie said, sketching out a graph on the board seemingly from memory. "However, we have been able to pinpoint several general markers- it is at Level 45, has 158 HP, does not seem to exert influence over-"

I squinted at the board. There were a lot of numbers and lines. It took a minute for the words to filter through to my brain. They were talking about Groudon- right, _that_ Groudon. Of course.

"-however, the time span is simply too limited to assess-"

 _The absence of Groudon from the ecosystem?_

Groudon was _gone?_ May had _killed it? Arceus-_ no, that couldn't be right. May wouldn't do that. May wouldn't kill a legendary Pokémon, and come out of the experience smiling. She was smiling and nodding even now, as Maxie rambled on.

"-seems to be a shocking lack of documentation of-"

No, if she hadn't killed it, she'd -removed it, somehow, apparently. I racked my brains. Had May ever specified what had happened to Groudon after she'd defeated it? Had it been in some kind of pool of lava? Had it sunken back into the bowels of the earth?

Removed it. From the ecosystem. How…?

Maybe she'd- oh, _shit._

"-know you were probably expecting-"

"Wait."

May and Maxie must have heard something in my voice, because both of them turned around at once. Maxie's eyebrows raised just slightly; I'm sure I was white as a sheet.

"May," I breathed. I think I may even have been shaking. "You- you didn't _just_ defeat Groudon, did you?"

May held my gaze steadily.

EIGHT-BADGE TRAINER'S TEAM SUBDUES GROUDON

LEGENDARY CONTINENT POKéMON "NO LONGER A THREAT" SAYS PKMN TRAINER MAY

POKéMON PROFESSOR BIRCH ASSURES PUBLIC: GROUDON WILL NOT AWAKEN AGAIN

"Oh, dear," said Maxie, blinking and lowering his hand from the whiteboard. "May, have you not informed your friend…?"

"Please don't freak out," said May, her eyes like saucers, still staring at me intently.

" _Fuck!"_ I cursed, too loudly; several people stopped their busy activity to stare. "Sorry- sorry, but if this means what I think it means- I mean, _shit-_ " Quickly, I cut that train of thought short. _Okay. I have to stay practical._ I blinked several times. _This is actually fine. I should inform them that this is fine. Calm, Steven, calm._ "Right, May, this is fine, we can deal with this-"

May and Maxie blinked at me. Maxie's eyes slid to the whiteboard covered in numbers and graphs. May looked torn between anxiety and laughter.

"Right, actually, it looks like you're … already dealing with this." I took a breath. "That's good." Another breath. "I'm not _freaking out_ , May."

Another long breath.

"Would you now care to, however belatedly, explain how I can assist you in the matter of your having _caught a legendary Pokémon_ and _kept it hidden_ for _six months?"_

All right, so I'm sure I'd be the last person to accuse of underestimating May, but this- this was new, unpleasantly so. Call me old-fashioned, but for me, the idea of capturing and training a legendary Pokémon- it just seems wrong. Oh, we'd all known it was possible for a long time- it had been done in other regions, after all- but that didn't make it a good idea by any means. So many humans can't even handle having the power to command regular Pokémon.

On top of that, keeping and training a legendary was often strenuously difficult- battling with it could release havoc upon the environment, keeping it in its ball for too long could disrupt the natural balance of things, the science associated with its proper care and keeping was _flabbergasting;_ the list went on. And the social impact was unimaginable- scientists, politicians, reporters, fans, Pokémon-rights groups, environmentalists, Pokémon professors, foolhardy challengers- you'd draw them all, and more, if word of your ownership of a legendary ever, _ever_ leaked.

May had collected all eight Hoenn gym badges by the time she was eighteen; she'd become Champion at nineteen. She was no stranger to breaking limits, nor to fame and the spotlight. But this…!

I just couldn't see May as the reckless kind of person to capture a legendary on a whim, or because she could. Especially a legendary who had almost obliterated Hoenn without even meaning to. She was too smart for that- smarter than me, probably, in some ways.

"Well," May said thoughtfully, interrupting my train of thought. "the last time someone tried to wake it up, it almost destroyed the world. I figured it might be a good idea to study it a bit, since last time we had absolutely no prior knowledge on how to control it or stop it."

"There's probably a reason for that," I pointed out.

May blushed slightly and folded her arms, giving me a slightly petulant look. "Also, I was an eighteen-year-old kid facing an ancient and enraged beast of legend and I kind of just panicked and did what I do best."

Then again, there was a reason I'd never felt qualified to call myself May's mentor. I decided to shut my mouth and listen to Maxie's statistics.

* * *

HOENN WEATHER INSTITUTE TAKES POSSESSION OF WEATHER ORBS

TRAINER RED CAPTURES LEGENDARY BIRD POKéMON

BREAKTHROUGH IN MEWTWO RESEARCH: SCIENTISTS REFUSE TO SHARE DETAILS

"You want to hand Groudon over to the Weather Institute?" I resisted the urge to rub my forehead. Three hours of this, and I was just about beat. It was all I could do to clarify this simplest of simple points.

May nodded, carefully steady. "So they can observe it further, do more research, and hopefully… one day, manage it for doing good."

I tipped my head, considering it. Of course, Groudon's powers extended far beyond weather, but there were some very capable environmentalists who worked at the Weather Institute. And it was the most sensible option, anyway; they knew enough about Pokémon to have engineered a new one, and had already been studying the Red and Blue Orbs for more than three months.

It turned out that May had captured Groudon, then stored it in a private PC box for the following few months while trying to decide what to do. Simply releasing it might have caused it to devastate the environment again, and there was no telling what effect being captured might have had on it, according to Maxie. After May had gauged Team Magma's good intent, she'd handed Groudon over to them for study, but the level of trust was not great and she'd ended up independently contacting the Weather Institute to arrange a transfer. It had taken three more months for the Institute to set up a suitable holding facility for Groudon.

May had paid them a ridiculous amount of money to keep quiet about everything. They'd undoubtedly be able to handle the legendary continent Pokémon as well as anyone.

So, the move would happen in three weeks. Everything seemed set.

"May," I said, and she turned, framed in the doorway of Team Magma's lab. "You still haven't explained why you brought me here."

She hesitated, locking her fingers together and looking up at me. She looked at me for so long that I wondered if I was supposed to read the answer written across her eyeballs, but then she finally spoke. "This… is hard for me."

I don't know why those particular words had such an impact on me, at that moment, but they did; I stared at her, remarkably taken off-guard. Maybe it was because that was the first time May had said them to me in that order, that combination, that tone of voice. But May said lots of things to me that nobody else ever said; "Steven, do Nosepass fall in love?" or "Steven, do you think someone could build a house connected to a Pokémon gym?" or "Steven, sorry for calling this late at night, but if the whole world was clean, where would Grimer live?"

"Steven, do you think love and hate are like a circle, or a straight line?"

"Do you think Rayquaza gets lonely sometimes?"

"This is hard for me."

"...Yeah?" I said hesitantly, after another long pause.

"I know this is all very sudden," said May, dancing subtly around the point for a second longer. "I've just… been dealing with this for months, and it's really hard, and I wondered if maybe having someone here with me would help."

"I-" I started, but May interrupted.

"I know it's stupid, and I wasted your time. Sorry," she spat out quickly, looking away from me, her shoulders curving inwards. Completely stripped of charisma and mischief, she looked the way she had when she'd emerged from the Cave of Origin; exhausted, horrified, guilty. I felt a jolt as I realized that maybe, now, I understood the reason for that expression. "I didn't really want your help. I just wanted you to be around."

"Don't apologize," I said, eventually, placing a hand on her shoulder; she looked up at me again cautiously. "I'm happy to…" I didn't want to use the word _help_ now. "...accompany you, anywhere you care to go." Which sounds very drastic, but really isn't, not when it's from one wandering Trainer to another. I paused, unsure of how much I wanted to say to her then; I choked slightly on the weight of everything I wasn't saying. "May, let's go."

"Wait," she said quickly. "Steven… do you think I'm making the right decision?" The words came out all in a rush, and I just stared at her for a second, figuring out what she'd said. I couldn't understand what she'd asked about. The decision about Groudon? Capturing Groudon in the first place? Becoming the hero of Hoenn and condemning her to heavy decisions like this? I was equally unable to answer any of them.

"I… don't know," I finally said, helplessly, watching her expression turn to guarded disappointment at my failure to produce an answer. "I am not privy to the wisdom of legendary Pokémon. Over the past few years, I've come to realize how little of the world I know… thanks to you, in part, May." I tried a smile, but she didn't return it. "If Groudon chose you, surely it saw some kind of good future in you," I tried. "Go with your intuition."

"It's just like you to say something long and empty like that," she muttered, which was, well, a fair accusation, even if it hurt to hear her say it so plainly. It wasn't that I was naturally verbose, more that May often asked questions that left me stammering and qualifying and going round and round. I wondered if she had that effect on anybody else.

"The thing is, Steven, Groudon _didn't_ choose me." She looked absolutely miserable; it was rare that I saw her like this, all burned out and empty. "I forced it down. It was primal. I don't even think it could make rational decisions at that point."

"You did the right thing," I soothed, unsure what else to say, unsure if I even believed what I was saying.

"It didn't want to be beaten," she said, as if pleading to be understood. "I had to use all six of my Pokémon to beat it. It didn't want to fight me. It just wanted to get out." Her voice was strained, oddly passionate; May got passionate about so many things, but the strength of her emotion shocked me every time. They say that a truly great Pokémon Trainer's defining trait has to be a good heart. I'd thought I was decent in that category, but of course May beat me. It was easy to see why.

"Maybe I was weak for not letting it go," she said in an empty voice.

"I understand," I said.

* * *

 **sorry, i did a terrible job on the prompt fill this time around. i promise i'm usually more relevant.**

 **this was written for the second day of dai/haru week on tumblr. thanks for your favs, follows and reviews!**

 **thanks for reading!**


	3. Day 3: Secret Base

**Day 3: Secret Base**

* * *

 _How to hide from a reporter who trains Ghost-types. The art of **secret bases**._

* * *

EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH CHAMPION MAY ON PG. 13

CHAMPION MAY RELEASES STATEMENTS ON ETPA

MAY SPEAKS ON HER PERSONAL LIFE IN BRAND-NEW INTERVIEW

"A reporter with a Gastly is chasing me around Route 121 and won't go away, what do I do?"

I struggled to a sitting position and squinted out the window. The sky outside was startlingly dark and full of stars. Actually, it was night. I took the Pokénav away from my ear and stared at the screen. It was 1:59 in the morning.

"Steven?"

"May?"

There was a long pause, marked by bursts of static.

"You ...don't want to talk to this reporter?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"Did you hear me the first time?" May sounded like she hadn't gotten enough sleep for at least three days. It was, I thought, a reasonable assumption to make, given that right now she was calling me two hours after midnight. "No, I don't want to give an interview to this _MANIAC_ ," -I got the feeling she'd yelled the word over her shoulder at the aforementioned maniac- "at stupid o'clock in the morning, can you do something or should I hang up and focus on running?"

Well, I was at a loss as to why she suddenly couldn't stand talking to a journalist now, when she'd happily befriended every major media voice in Hoenn by the end of her first month as Champion. But I supposed that May's reasons were not for me to question- not at two in the morning, at any rate. My head hurt already.

"Do you have the Secret Power TM in your bag?" I asked, swinging my legs over the edge of bed and cradling the Pokénav in both hands. There was a rustle, presumably her digging in her bag.

"Yes," she said. "What does it do?"

"Use it on a Pokémon," I directed, fumbling to get on pants and a halfway-decent shirt. I heard more rustling; keeping the Pokénav pressed to my ear, I struggled to pull on socks one-handed.

"I did it," she reported.

"Have the Pokémon use it on a gap in a cliff wall, or a big tree," I said, grabbing a jacket from the wall and walking out of my bedroom. I poured myself a glass of water in the sink and set my Pokénav on speaker while I drank it, still unable somehow to summon any sense of urgency for the occasion. The water helped wake me up. I leaned against the sink.

"What the hell is that supposed to do?" her voice crackled through the device.

"It's supposed to create a secret room," I explained. "It might take a couple of tries." I hesitated slightly. "I'm going to come and meet you."

Walking out of the kitchen, I picked my way across my dusty living room and opened the door, peering up and down the street. The humid heat of the night hit me all at once, making me choke a little. The air smelled strongly of the sea, the summer heat having dragged all of it in from the shore and spread it over the rooftops like a blanket. I felt like I was underwater.

May didn't ask me why I was coming, or tell me not to. She didn't tell me if Secret Power had worked or not. I listened to her breaths get calmer and calmer, through the Pokénav, as I walked down to the end of the street, where I released my Skarmory.

Flying on a Skarmory is many things, but _quiet_ is not one of them. I directed mine to go higher, rising above the thick bed of sea mist, so that nobody in the city would hear the swift _clink_ of her feathers folding in and out. I was the only one in Mossdeep City who owned a Skarmory, so everybody would know it was me. My neighbors worried about me enough without having to know that I was heading across the water in the middle of the night to meet that girl who was always in the newspapers. To them, I wasn't the former Champion, or the heir to Devon Corp. I was 'that handsome boy of Mr Stone's', who really needed to settle down and stop chasing pieces of shiny dirt before he did himself an injury.

STEVEN STONE REFUSES TO SPEAK ON RELATIONSHIP WITH FATHER

DEVON CORP. STOCKS PLUNGE IN VALUE

HEAD OF DEVON: "I'M VERY PROUD OF MY SON."

I peered down; we were flying across the ocean. I trusted in Skarmory's instinct to find land, because I'd never quite gotten the hang of navigating over water at night. Tiny islands stood out from the flat surface that was the water; the tiny ripples that formed around them were the only waves large enough to catch and reflect what little light there was. The rock formations we passed over seemed familiar, even though all the details I learned them by were melted in shadow. I wondered whether I was still dreaming. Of course, I was used to having things happen quickly, but I was worried about May and confused by the situation. I wished that I could hear her say something, now, so I could be sure that I hadn't dreamed her voice, that I wasn't flying aimlessly across the ocean and into the mist for no reason at all.

I was also unsure that, in the event that May's call had indeed been real, I wasn't flying aimlessly across the ocean and into the mist for no reason at all anyway.

Route 121 is right near Mossdeep, so I reached the general area in about fifteen minutes; Skarmory circled over the landscape as I peered over the edge at the black, sharp edge of the water. It was too dark to see much of anything, so I spoke into the Pokénav for the first time since taking off.

"Hello?" I wasn't entirely sure if May was still on the line, because I couldn't hear any sound from the speaker- the wind in my ears and the sound of Skarmory's wings was enough to drown out the sound of static.

A pause. "Steven?"

"Where are you?" I asked. I couldn't see the reporter anywhere. I couldn't see anything except for vague dark lumps and the glint of water here and there. There was no movement in the trees; there appeared to be no wind apart from the gust Skarmory's wings was churning up, and the trees were indistinguishable from the rocks in their staid, damp heaviness. It was a cloudy night and not even the moon was out to light the landscape.

"The little path on the left," said May, indistinctly. "This is really weird, Steven. Was this room always here?"

"Nobody really knows," I said, directing Skarmory downwards. The grass was damp beneath my feet as I slid off her back and recalled her. I slunk around the corner and headed down the path, feeling like I was becoming involved in something illicit. There was still no sign of the reporter, but what if they were just hiding somewhere? It was odd that they'd pursue May to this extent- nobody will give a good impromptu interview if you harass them- maybe they'd been a photographer?

Of course, the point of a secret base is that it's secret. I've only ever met one person who can find secret bases without help. (The fact that he was my neighbor had previously dissuaded me from establishing one of my own.)

"Can you just come out for a moment?" I asked, squinting in the dark. "I won't be able to find the secret base unless you show me. That's what makes them convenient for hiding."

Silence. Then May edged quietly out of a tree ten feet to my left and looked around. She was wearing an overlarge red sweater, the warm colors of which stood out to me against the cold black-blues and black-greens of our surroundings. Nothing else was warm. Even her skin was a flat blue-gray, an unhealthy color that couldn't be entirely ascribed to lighting. Her eyes were round as she turned to see me standing there.

"Hi," she whispered, and that's when a Gastly burst out of the ground at my feet and we both screamed. I leapt for May and we both tumbled backwards into the tree as somebody shouted from above us and the Gastly cackled so loudly I imagined all of Lilycove would be awake by now.

May and I, meanwhile, had landed in a square, unfurnished room, surrounded on all sides by foliage. It was dark and cold.

"Fuck, you weren't kidding about the Gastly," I muttered, brushing dirt off my pants and scooting away from her.

"No," she laughed, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees. "That reporter'll be here soon- he's run past this tree three times already- it's incredible, he doesn't seem to see it at all." Her hand stroked the ambiguous brown floor of the secret base absently as she talked, as if she was testing its reality.

At a loss for what to say, I stared at her hand, tracking the curve of her knuckles. She looked down, too. We both watched her hand move for a few seconds.

"I've never seen you dress this casually before," she said, abruptly, just as I was starting to regret coming to meet her. I still wasn't completely sure why I had, just that I didn't like the thought of her sitting out here in the gut of a tree all night, wondering if it was safe to come out. I'm not sure why I thought that both of us sitting in the gut of a tree all night was any better, but, at any rate, I was here now. And May was talking about clothes.

"Oh." I smiled awkwardly. Usually I wore suits. Usually I didn't meet May in such informal settings. "Well… what do you think, then?" I turned to face her, jokingly showing off my jacket and t-shirt.

"You look nice," she said quietly, completely serious. I blinked at her, taken off-guard for a second. "I like seeing you like this."

I leaned back, palms on the floor. "Thank you," I replied, staring up at the leafy ceiling of the secret base rather than looking at her. It was too early in the morning by about six hours to be polite, especially without caffeine. "It may be the last time for a while." Her eyes jerked to the side slightly at the word 'may', as if she'd been waiting to hear her name.

"I hope not," she said, cheerful again, pushing my arm.

OUR TOP TEN TIPS FOR TRAINING DURING THE SUMMER

HOENN RANKED AS TOP VACATION REGION FOR SUMMER

"THE OCEAN IS IN LOVE WITH THE SHORE" LEADER WALLACE ON MOSSDEEP CITY

I had only seen May a few times since she'd taken me to the Team Magma base, mostly for Ever Grande business. She'd kept me updated on the Groudon business, insofar as anything was changing: neither of us had the time to read Maxie's long scientific reports, but she continued to faithfully pass them along to me, as if she was trying to prompt me to voice an opinion on the topic. Honestly, though, I didn't know what to think about the whole thing, so I'd just kept quiet.

Other than that, I hadn't had much information in the way of her life; I knew better than to take the media at its word. We spent the next few hours catching up with each other. She told me about beating Wallace in an informal battle with only her Blaziken. I told her about having lunch with my dad, and how all he could talk about was the new update to the Devon Scope his researchers were working on developing.

"Does that bother you?" May asked, her chin in her hands, her knees tucked inside the red sweater.

"Not really." I looked at her, curious. "Why do you ask?"

"It used to bother me that my dad was so into his work," she said, staring at a far corner of the room. "He spends so much time at his gym, you know- and he always says that thing, " _I have devoted my life to Pokémon_ ", you know?" When she imitated her dad, her voice went low and sharp. She'd told me she hadn't ever spent a lot of time with Norman, but she sure had his voice down pat, I noted.

"Anyway, I thought it was sad that Mom had to live so far away from him- she keeps her TV on all the time, so if he comes on the news she can see it right away." May twisted her mouth to the side, thinking for a second. "But it's sort of ironic- now it's him always telling me to keep in touch, to visit my mom more, because I left both of them farther behind than they ever left each other." She laughed shortly.

"Well, you're an adult now," I offered. "Twenty years old is old enough to be making your own decisions."

"It doesn't matter how old your kid is," May joked, "if they leave home and then pull a stunt like defeating a legendary Pokémon, you've probably got the right to be furious."

She said it easily, like it was one of those vaguely reprehensible things all teenagers ended up doing- got drunk at a college party, got KO'd by a wild Graveler you tried to catch with a Poké Ball, got your heart broken by a person with _piercings_ , god forbid. Defeated a legendary Pokémon. All in a day's work.

"That's reasonable," I said, laughing along with her, even though something in my gut jerked. It was much too easy to forget that there was a different side to May-the Champion side- than what I was seeing now. Again, I wondered if I should bring Groudon into our conversation. True, our conversations were mostly May saying things and me replying, but maybe she _was_ waiting for me to bring up the topic? Before I could consider it any more, though, she was speaking again.

"That's why I moved Mom to Petalburg," she said. "But we all know that didn't work, right?"

LEADER NORMAN'S WIFE MOVES TO PETALBURG TO BE CLOSER TO HUSBAND

CHAMPION MAY SPEAKS ON RELATIONSHIP WITH FATHER, PETALBURG GYM LEADER

REPORTERS STORM TINY LITTLEROOT TOWN FOR CHANCE TO SPEAK WITH TRAINER MAY'S MOTHER

"I mean, they're in love, sure," she continued, the words sounding like they'd been forced from her mouth. "But that doesn't mean their relationship's _working_ at all. I never understood what was so terrible about falling out of love- isn't it way worse to still _be_ in love, but not be right for each other?"

"You think that's possible?" I asked her. At the sound of my voice, she seemed to snap out of whatever state of mind she'd been in, appearing genuinely surprised as she turned to stare at me.

"What, do you believe in true love or something?" she said incredulously. "I wouldn't expect it from you, Steven."

"No, I don't," I said quickly, the corner of my mouth turning up at the idea. "Of course not. I was just curious to know what you thought."

She raised her eyebrows, grinning at me, but didn't push the subject. "Yeah. I mean, I guess I don't really know what love is, but I think my mom and dad are really in love, and I think that that's not ...really… enough, to make a relationship work. I mean. Obviously, I guess." She sighed, even though the smile was still on her face. "It's like saying someone should get something just because they want it really, really badly. You know?"

"That's true," I said. "But… if someone wants something that badly, aren't they much more likely to work hard to achieve it?" She met my eyes; I tried not to be distracted by her look, but my next few sentences came out mangled anyway. "A good relationship requires work, and isn't love the incentive? I mean," I hesitated, "that sounds a bit cold, but-"

"It makes sense," she finished for me, and suddenly I was struck with the possibility that this whole conversation had meant one thing to me, and a completely different thing to her. Those last three words had been said like a hint. Illogically, I wished I could make her say everything over again, slower, just to make sure I hadn't missed something important, but it was too late- she laughed, looked away, and we both understood it to mean the conversation was over.

How many hidden messages of May's had I just barely missed? Was that why I always felt vaguely unsettled, talking to her? Was it because she was saying something different from what I was hearing, always hoping that this time I'd be sharp enough, quick enough to catch her meaning?

Or maybe that was crazy thinking, and I should stop before I tied my brain into knots. What could May possibly have to say to me that would require she speak in code?

May was watching me, and I couldn't help but read a hint of _Oh no, he's finally cracked my great secret_ in her face, half-covered in shadow. I resisted the urge to laugh. Yes, I was ridiculous. Dear Arceus.

Just then, a voice came from directly outside the secret base, making us both tense up. I caught the words " _was here"_ , but the man seemed to be speaking in a low, secretive voice, despite the fact that the only one I could think he'd be talking to was his Pokémon.

We both listened to the reporter talk to the Gastly, and the Gastly gibber back in its own language. Time seemed to stretch impossibly long. It was incredible, how much two creatures who could barely communicate with each other could have to say to each other. I didn't dare to turn my head to look at May, but I got the deeply uncomfortable feeling that she was staring at me.

Finally, it seemed that the man had given up; there was the sound of a Pokémon being recalled, and then the crunch of footsteps heading in the direction of Lilycove. I let out a breath and finally glanced over at May; she hadn't been staring at me, after all. She was gazing with an odd intensity at a spot on the ground, apparently thinking hard about something. All that thought going on in her head; it was strange somehow that I hadn't sensed some kind of motion- of course, I was no psychic, but it was oddly strange nonetheless. I wondered if she was even aware that the reporter had left, but then she spoke.

"Isn't it funny," she said, thoughtfully, "how we can barely even communicate with our closest friends?"

"You mean… Pokémon?" I said, puzzled at this sudden change of tack.

"Yeah," May said, still refusing to look away from the ground. "We really can't be sure about anything to do with them, can we? We have no idea what they really want, what they really like…"

"We know some things," I said cautiously. "I mean, it's true that I have no idea if my Pokémon understand me when I talk to them or not, but the bond between us… I don't think that could be imagined."

"Yeah," said May, again, "but it's like my mom and dad, isn't it? You and your Pokémon could be totally in love with each other, and it wouldn't guarantee that you'd all be happy." She smiled slightly, finally looking up to see my shocked expression. "Haha, what, is that too _blasphemous_ for you?"

"No, you're right," I said, after a short pause. "I suppose ...I'd never thought of it that way before." I ended up saying those words far too often to May- _I never thought of it that way before_. It made me want to spend a month on top of a mountain, doing nothing but thinking of something original to say to her, to surprise her, to call her up in the middle of the night asking, "Hey, May, why do you think Staryu only come out on clear nights?"

And she'd say, "Because they're watching the stars, of course!" and there would be no question in her mind as to whether they really did or not.

Was that what I wanted?

"May," I said, slowly, "why are you here?"

"Are we getting all philosophical, now?" she teased lightly. "You mean, why am I here on earth?"

"No, I mean… why are you _here,_ on Route 121 tonight?" I saw her face change, the laughter sinking back into her eyes, replaced with a sort of guarded expression, as if she'd been waiting for me to ask, but didn't want to answer.

"Um." She stopped, nibbling on her fingernails. I waited, holding my breath and not knowing why. Her eyes flicked quickly to the entrance to the secret base, and I thought for a split second that she might get up and run away. Then, with the air of a person flinging herself off the edge of a cliff, she rushed forward; "I came to see you."

One part of me had been expecting this answer. The other half, the conscious half, spluttered for a full thirty seconds while May stared at me, an odd expression on her face.

"Did you need something, then?" I finally managed.

"No," she said, sounding frustrated. "I wanted to see you, because I _like_ you. I don't _need_ anything."

There was a long silence.

"That's why I was so upset about that damn journalist," she snapped, suddenly. "I don't like mixing my personal life with _them."_ She practically spat the last word, as if it was some disgusting swearword. I stared at her, nonplussed.

"Sometimes I get so mixed up," she said forcefully, obviously upset for some reason. "I have to be a whole different _person_ around them, you know? Do you ever feel that way?"

I wasn't sure how to say _No, I have no fucking idea what you're talking about_ in a sympathetic way, but, luckily, for once May didn't seem interested in getting an answer out of me.

"And I don't like being that person," she said unhappily, her eyes fixed straight ahead of her on something I couldn't see. "It scares me, because if I get _my_ life mixed up with _that,_ I might have to become like that forever."

"May…" I stalled for a second, then touched her shoulder. She jerked slightly and whipped her head around. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean."

She gave me this _look_ , as if to say, _How could you not?_ "I'm afraid of losing my real self," she said, matter-of-factly. "In everything. All of this." She breathed out a quick, impatient sigh. "Fuck, I don't know."

May, to me, seemed like the last person in the world to ever lose her real self anywhere. I opened my mouth to tell her this. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my hand and dragged it off her shoulder and reached up and kissed me. Her lips felt rough, as if she'd been biting the skin off them.

And I let it happen. For just a moment, before pulling away.

We spent the rest of the night in silence, sitting close together for warmth and staring at the floor.

* * *

 **i might as well change the title of this fic to "clusterfuck of unnecessary adverbs" and be done with it AaaaAA i'm really frustrated sorry  
** **if anyone has tips for eliminating adverbs, please PLEASE have mercy on me and leave me a review or PM dfkjghdfkjlhdfk**

 **and.. also, thanks for reading ! yeah**


	4. Day 4: Admiration

**Day 4: Admiration**

 _His **admiration** for her is almost their undoing._

* * *

CHAMPION MAY SPOTTED WALKING NEAR MOSSDEEP CITY AT NIGHT

MAY'S NEW LOOK IS PERFECT FOR SUMMER

CHAMPION MAY VISITS PETALBURG AND BATTLES FATHER

"They never give me a break," complained May, tossing the magazine to the floor and leaning back in her chair. "Who cares what kind of clothes I wear? I thought being the Champion was about battling, you know?"

It was only idle chatter, of course; both of us knew very well the unwritten rules of being a role model. Still, some people seem to draw comfort from pointing out obvious flaws in human society.

"Not when you're young and attractive," I replied. She made a face at me, sticking her tongue out.

"Easy for you to say," she retorted. "All you ever wear are suits. I bet it isn't even a choice for you in the morning, is it?"

I smiled, and she laughed, before she slid her elbows off the table and said, "I have to go." Without any warning, or explanation, as always.

TRAINER BRENDAN, CHAMPION'S PAST RIVAL: "I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH MAY ANYMORE"

THE CHANGING ROLE OF THE POKéMON CHAMPION IN TODAY'S SOCIETY

HOW MUCH INFLUENCE DOES THE ELITE FOUR HAVE OVER THE GOVERNMENT?

She kissed me on the cheek as she got up to leave the room. "See you, Steven."

It had been a month since the night in the secret base, and May had showed no sign of wanting to define our relationship any more than it already was defined- namely, us both pretending that everything was normal except for when she kissed me. She would drop a kiss on my forehead, or the back of my hand; they weren't like kisses, really, they were like folded-up notes that she'd leave behind, that I could keep in my pocket and read over and over again even when she was gone. They were meant to serve a purpose, and to communicate a message.

I never reciprocated, and she showed no sign of wanting me to. This was so far from my field of expertise that I didn't dare make any decisions of my own, instead letting her steer us in the direction she wanted us to go. This was a safe option, and I worried that someday it wouldn't be a safe option any longer, and she'd want me to make a choice. In politics, they say that silence is also a course of action.

One other thing had changed: the questions. They were all about me now.

"Steven, what was your starter Pokémon?" A Beldum.

"Steven, why did you want to become a Trainer?" Because Pokémon were the only thing I could imagine not running out of things to learn about.

"Steven, since the earth is sort of like a huge rock, do you love the whole world?"

 _Well._

YOU CANNOT BLAME TEAM MAGMA INCIDENT FOR ENTIRE GLOBAL WARMING SITUATION, SAY LEADING HOENN ENVIRONMENTALISTS

DOMESTICATED POKéMON SHOULD NOT SIMPLY BE RELEASED INTO THE WILD, STUDY SHOWS

INBREEDING IN SHOW POKéMON IS RAPIDLY DESTROYING GENE POOL

I started asking her questions, too, calling her way too often and reading off a list of conversation starters I'd printed off the library's computer. "May, do you collect anything?" or "May, what's your favorite color?" or "May, where's your favorite place?" Not nearly as creative as hers were, but I still felt the need to know _something_ about her, even if it was only that she liked watching Lotad ferries on the weekend. I found myself missing her when she was away traveling, or I was away traveling, which was a new and unpleasant sensation. The constant phone calls, which she tolerated very gracefully, were my way of dealing with this inevitable pain, sort of like a dying person trying to paste Band-aids on a Charizard bite.

The result was that I felt, at least a bit, like I was building a real relationship with May, and not a sort of distant acquaintanceship-plus-paper-airplane-kisses. Also, I spent a lot less time looking for rocks and a lot more time sitting in Wallace's eye-burningly decorated living room, staring aimlessly into the depths of a glass of ridiculously high-class wine.

(She collects vintage TMs, her favorite color is blue, and her favorite place is Pacifidlog Town.)

"You should buy her flowers," suggested Wallace, enthusiastically. "Or give her compliments. And for Mew's sake wear something else for once- show some skin!"

I wasn't inclined to take advice from him, not least because of the flagrantly midriff-baring article of clothing _he_ had chosen to wear that day. However, my father had always told me never to judge a potential business investor by their clothing, and I thought perhaps the same philosophy applied to potential romantic advisors. There was also the fact of Wallace being my _one_ close friend. Other people tended to get tired of flinging themselves forcefully at me, knocking mineral specimens out of my hands with abandon, until I was forced to acknowledge their existence; not him. So I called him my best friend, if only because I couldn't help but admire his persistence to become such.

This did not mean that I allowed him to pressure me into wearing a crop top for the purposes of seducing May.

MYSTERY OF VERDANTURF HEALTH BENEFITS SOLVED? SPECIAL ARTICLE PG.8

HERE'S WHY TWO TRAINERS WHO SPECIALIZE IN THE SAME TYPE SHOULDN'T DATE

REVOLUTIONARY NEW POKéMON TRAINING METHOD DOESN'T INVOLVE YOUR VOCAL CORDS- NEVER SHOUT A COMMAND AGAIN

I discarded the idea of flowers, too, and gifts in general. The only things I could see May actually appreciating and using were items or tools to do with training Pokémon, and I'd already given her plenty of those. As for flowers, it seemed like too traditional of a romantic move. Whatever this relationship of ours was, it was something that May seemed to think would work best if neither of us questioned or analyzed or defined or acknowledged it, so I went along with that, a little scared that if I did anything contrary to this careful ignoring of the Donphan in the room, she'd end the whole thing.

Just a little scared, though. Not _a lot_ scared, because that would imply that I cared _a lot._ As a matter of fact, I was just as capable of controlling how much I cared as a person who'd been bitten by a Charizard would be capable of controlling how much unbearable pain they were in.

So, uh, anyway, a romantic gift was out. According to Wallace, that left compliments.

What could I say to May that a thousand and one people hadn't already? I thought about this question for exactly a minute and a half before coming to the conclusion that there was literally nothing.

Maybe it wasn't the exact words that had to be unique, but the way that I said them. Or the context. Or maybe the fact that it was me saying them would somehow make the same words into something else, something more meaningful. After all, didn't lovers habitually go all gooey about telling each other that they were beautiful, they were perfect, they were loved? Those were age-old words. Maybe I could start small, a "You look nice today", or something.

Opportunities for meeting each other were thin on the ground; May's time was cleanly divided between her campaign for raising the age to acquire a Trainer's license and her work with Team Magma on Groudon, while I spent my time in stuffy meeting rooms, yelling about fidgety little details of the ETPA, or outside tracking veins of obsidian on foot for two towns. Another thing that changed since that night, I suppose; May started complaining to me more often. I wondered if she had felt, before, as if she couldn't talk to me about what was on her mind.

* * *

SUPPORTERS OF TRAINER LICENSE REQUIRED AGE RAISE IN IT FOR PROFIT?

"Who even thought it was a good idea to send little eleven-year-olds into the wilderness with level five Zigzagoons and Poochyena as starters?" she would rant. "So many things could go wrong. So many! Hoenn's future is its youth, you know, Steven, and we're sending those kids out there with no protection whatever!"

This is probably the part where I'm supposed to talk about how I thought it was so cute that she cared so much about little baby Trainers, and how selfless and amazing she was. It would have been a good point to insert a compliment. I couldn't do it. All I could muster by way of emotion, listening to her go on and on about all these heartbreaking things, was a sort of piercing concern for her mental well-being. I wanted to tell her to take better care of herself. I wanted to tell her that the Trainer license age limit could wait, even though it couldn't. I wanted to tell her that all of that wasn't as important as her happiness.

If I were a certain kind of person, I'd have been able to make _that_ sound like a compliment. I wasn't.

"This makes you unhappy, May?" I asked, instead, and she gave me the kind of look that human beings generally reserve for the guy working the midnight shift at the Poké Mart who asks if you want a receipt for that single Poké Ball.

* * *

TRAINERS ADVISED TO THINK MORE CAREFULLY BEFORE PC-STORING POKéMON

"Sometimes I wonder if the bond between humans and Pokémon is even a _good_ thing." May sipped from her cup of coffee and then glanced up at me, eyes wide. "Arceus, my dad would go fucking mental if he ever heard I said that." She seemed to find this idea funny, laughing before taking another gulp of coffee.

"I mean, now it's coming out that the bond impacts a Pokémon so deeply you can't release it into the wild after it's been with you for a long time, it won't be able to take care of itself anymore," she continued, tracing the edge of a piece of paper with the tip of her pointer finger. "We have people out there catching Pokémon just to add them to the Pokédex, you know. They say that Pokémon are safely in stasis when they're stored in PC boxes, but then how can you explain how a Pokémon will become more friendly with you just from being held in its Poké Ball?"

I certainly couldn't explain. And she wasn't really looking for an explanation from me, anyway, her eyes already falling from my face back to the desk of important documents. It'd been a long time since she'd viewed me as someone who would know any more about these things than she did. "Imagine that, a level 100 Pokémon just being unable to defend itself from a bunch of wild Zubat… is it something to do with the increased mental capacity? Or the conditioning to respond to commands? Steven, what if battling were more intuitive, what if Trainers started teaching Pokémon to battle more independently?" Her eyes were wide, now, catching and reflecting the measly light of the ancient desk lamp we'd set at the side of the table. "To think for themselves, without commands… is that something we've never tried, as humans, or did we try and fail before?"

She picked up the piece of paper she'd been fingering and passed it over to me. It was titled messily with pen at the top of the page; "ETPA Section 2 Revision 9".

"Or maybe they just die of grief," she whispered, her empty hands chasing each other in a presumably caffeine-fueled state of anxiety. "I mean, when a Pokémon leaves its trainer and gets traded, it's not helpless in the same way a released Pokémon is. We're not really forming bonds of friendship with them, are we? We're making them dependent on the way of life we choose for them. It's all got to do with the human-Pokémon dynamic, species to species."

She trailed off, leaving an awkward silence. I chose my words carefully.

"I believe that some relationships, at least, between ...individual Pokémon, and individual humans, are genuine," I told May. "It's impossible, for me, to not believe that what I feel between myself and my Pokémon is not a positive thing."

She slumped over the table, as if someone had cut the strings holding her up. "...Yeah," she said hoarsely, picking at her fingers. "Me, too. I feel the same way, honestly." She smiled at me. "But even though I feel it, I can't seem to stop questioning it... I once told you about being in love and being in pain at the same time, right?"

An idea of the kind of compliment I wanted to give May began to form in my mind, but it took a different conversation from that one- a conversation that had been a while in coming- to solidify the idea in my mind.

* * *

EON POKéMON SPOTTED FLYING ALONE OVER MAUVILLE: "LEAVE IT ALONE, FOR MEW'S SAKE" LEADER WATTSON'S ONLY COMMENT

"Would you say that Pokémon are dependent on humans?" May asked.

I took a moment to consider this. "Today, I believe they are to some extent," I said, cautiously. "At least, dependent on our effect on the world, so we don't destroy it, and, by extension, them and us both." I smiled a little, but she didn't return it.

"If we're responsible for Pokémon…" She let out a frustrated sigh and toyed with one of the envelopes she'd brought in from my mailbox. "If it comes to a choice between them or us… are we supposed to save ourselves, because our first duty is to our own civilization, or do we save them because they depend on us?"

That, too, took a second to process. "I think humans and Pokémon are bound too closely for one group to expire without the other following." I eventually said. "For better or for worse."

May laughed. "I didn't mean total annihilation, of course- for one, there are so many different kinds of Pokémon, you can't really think of them as all being part of one group in an apocalypse setting." Slowly, she slit the envelope open. "But, if a human is in a situation where they need to choose for the good of either humans or Pokémon, which are they supposed to choose?"

"This is about Groudon, isn't it." I watched her gaze travel slowly up from the opened letter. She looked a little resigned as she met my eye.

"I can't stand the thought of failing somebody I was put in charge of," she said steadily, instead of answering my question. Drawing the piece of paper out of the envelope- _my mail, actually-_ she scanned it quickly and then tossed it across the table to me. "Junk mail for you," as if her previous words meant just as little as those.

I caught the paper, hesitated, then looked up. "I admire you."

The words came out of nowhere, and now she really looked surprised for the first time during our conversation, eyebrows flying into her bangs. As soon as I said it, I wished I could take it back, but at the same time- there was a kind of freedom in knowing I'd finally paid her a damned compliment, and meant it, and that had to be something.

I did admire her. She was strong in battle, intelligent, uninhibited with her Pokémon. I admired the depth of her emotion, the height of her position, the width of her attention. I admired the way she gave her all into helping the world, how she made me realize new things about life itself without even trying, how much she _felt_. The amount of energy she expended on other people wasn't healthy, and I didn't like it; I did admire it, and I couldn't help myself.

What an incredible person. My fucking _inspiration_. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hug her or throw myself off Mt. Chimney.

"Oh, Steven," she said, and grabbed my hand, and looked unhappy. "Don't say that, please."

"Why not?" I did my best to hold her gaze, but it was like looking at a huge building collapse and burn; I couldn't stand to look for long.

"Don't say that," she repeated, her voice growing softer. "It's not ...a kind thing to say, to someone like me. I don't deserve that. If you care about me, say you'll be my equal."

"I could never," I joked, weakly, and felt her fingers tighten over mine.

"Please don't joke," she begged, and I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I flipped my hand upside down and fit my fingers loosely through the gaps between hers.

* * *

 **shoutout to lady deviance  
"well that escalated lol" pretty much covers this entire fic tbh**

 **thank you so much for your kind attention! (i'd add more than one ! if this site would let me haha) i'm sorry i've been so pressed for time; i'd have liked to thank everyone individually.**

 **and thanks for reading, ofc! :)**


	5. Day 5: Tease

**Day 5: Tease**

 _May. This is not a game. Don't **tease**._

* * *

Today is NSFW day, but this chapter is not NSFW.

* * *

CHAMPION MAY LEAVES TRAINER LICENSE 18+ MOVEMENT WITH NO EXPLANATION

MAY REFUSES TO MAKE STATEMENT ON SOON-TO-BE-VOTED-ON ECO-TERRORISM ACT

HOENN CHAMPION WITHDRAWS FUNDS AND SUPPORT FOR MAJOR POKéMON-RIGHTS ORGANIZATION

I hadn't seen May for three months. Not for lack of trying. The first few weeks were fine- she was a little distracted on the phone, yes, if I paid close attention, but with her schedule that could only be expected. And it was reasonable that, when I tentatively proposed to meet up in Mauville and go spotting for Latios, she declined, citing other plans.

Over the next month, I actually found myself being the one to talk more in our conversations, which was a very strange experience. May was often so silent that I'd pause, just to listen for background noise or breathing, make sure she hadn't just quietly set down her Pokénav and gone to do something more productive than listen to me ramble on about underwater shelves of exposed basalt off the shore of Sootopolis. Occasionally, she'd break in with a seemingly unrelated question. When I'd answer, usually flummoxed by the change of topic, she'd hum thoughtfully into the mic, as if taking my answer into account as a tiny factor in some gigantic calculation she was running, and then drop it just as suddenly as she'd introduced it.

Nevertheless, I didn't worry too much. And I didn't begin to worry, until the headlines started appearing.

CHAMPION MAY PUTS HOLD ON CHALLENGERS FOR INDEFINITE TIME

MAY'S LOCATION UNKNOWN

WEATHER INSTITUTE IN UPROAR AT CHAMPION'S DISAPPEARANCE; REASON UNCLEAR

That's the point where I made the leap from _not worrying_ to _panicking._

But I barely even had time to panic before Ever Grande contacted me and reminded me how I'd agreed, a year and a half ago with no thought at all, to be the interim Champion- the backup, if you will- and I had to drop the lovely basalt and even, mostly, the ETPA, because there was a sudden flood of challengers and I swear that half of them just wanted to interrogate me about May.

It wasn't just the challengers, either. The media was on the entire League like Combee on honey- I'd known, as I vaguely mentioned before, how popular May was, but I don't think I fully recognized this region's absolute devotion to her before I witnessed their distress at her absence. I'd thought I was a little bit special, seeing her raw, blatant humanity splashed across her face in our late night coffee-and-politics sessions, but what I'd never realized was that just as the public had missed the part I'd seen of May, I'd missed the part the public had seen of her

May had been _wrong_ about herself, that night at the secret base. The side of May that was all good, all real, pure, sickeningly-sweet _good,_ was just as much a part of her as the bitter, constantly questioning side. (Bittersweet, I remembered saying to her once.) I wasn't sure if this meant that May's fear had come true at last, or if it had always just been this way. But I was terrifyingly sure that it was real.

Because how could something fake stir people like this? How could something fake and forced and unwanted touch peoples' hearts so strongly, pull them into action so willingly? It didn't come to me when I saw crowds of people gathered outside Ever Grande, waving signs and singing, but it came to me when Wally battled past the entire Elite Four to limp up to me, all Pokémon stowed, burns all down his shirt from his battle with Drake, and whisper a few heartfelt lines in my ear, before promptly forfeiting and paying me and leaving me stunned. It came to me when I visited Petalburg and caught a glimpse of one of Norman's trainees hugging May's mother in front of the gym. When I received an email from the old Team Magma admins, Tabitha and Courtney, wishing me good luck.

I'd always viewed May on a small, personal level, which she'd told me she valued about me, but now that she was gone I found myself wishing that I'd paid more attention to her interviews, her social justice efforts, had just once tried to see her the way everybody else in Hoenn did. I'd been missing out on something immensely valuable.

For the first time in my life, I spoke into reporters' mics with the intention of truly reaching the public. I told them that there was no need to panic. That I had faith in May's skill and intentions, no matter what had happened to her. I told them that I knew she'd come back soon. That I was close to May.

I didn't tell them that I'd called her Pokénav every night, right before I went to bed, and every time during the day I thought to, I would call as well. Her mailbox filled up in three days. I kept calling anyway, just to confirm that nothing had changed.

The Weather Institute kept sending me demanding emails, saying that moving Groudon had been scheduled for one week ago, two weeks ago, a month ago. I'm sure I held them off with the sheer force of my will, because when I look back on my hastily typed replies, I don't recognize them at all, just a cold desperate person whose only vocabulary consisted of the words "wait" and "longer" and "May".

Team Magma contacted me, too. Maxie said that although they had been doing very well prior to the event, May's disappearance had cast suspicion onto their organization. May had trusted these damned people, so I promised to make a statement. It was awful, completely awkward- I said something like, "Team Magma is to be trusted and definitely did not have a hand in Champion May's disappearance, at all", which sounds like the most suspicious statement in the history of Hoenn, but the public swallowed it like Gulpin. Maxie's problems, for the most part, just dried up. It was that easy.

That was the first time I'd tested the power of my position to sway public opinion. I'd kept well away from the business of politics when I was younger, because the media interfered with my searches for rare rocks, but mostly because I was scared of becoming addicted, of becoming one of those people who abused the position and money they were born into. I suppose it was the perfect time to try on my public voice for size, because I was so heartbroken about May that there was no danger of my becoming too comfortable with anything.

That was the third month. I had been beginning to wonder if I'd taught May something about running away after all, the same way I'd become an unintentional _inspiration_ for her, because she was surprisingly, damnedly good at the art of fleeing-flight-

She met me at the door of my own house at the beginning of the fourth month.

"You're back," I gasped, and she tilted her head, a little frown appearing on her face, as if she was disappointed in me. I hardly cared. I was hardly breathing.

"Don't tell me you were actually worried," she said, looking genuinely doubtful. I gaped at her, choking on relief and shock and more relief, so heavy it threatened to crush my shoulderblades.

"May, have you even _seen_ the newspapers? You've been gone for over a month- I- does anyone even know you're back yet-?!"

"Save it," she interrupts, her eyes steely, blazing. She grabbed my wrist, squeezing so tightly it hurt, and yanked me back into my own house. "I need to talk to you."

"May, you need to let people know you're not dead," I protested, digging in my heels and holding my ground with little difficulty, all those anxious faces crowding into my head one after the other. She glared up at me, small and angry and oddly, unexplainedly desperate. It felt strange, being the one to worry about "everybody else", letting her be the mysterious, selfish one. When had I grown to feel that I owed her to the world?

"After this, I swear," she promised. "Just let me do this one thing."

* * *

FORMER CHAMPION STEVEN ACCEPTING CHALLENGES IN PLACE OF MAY

STEVEN STONE: "I BELIEVE IN BOTH MAY'S ABILITIES AND HER INTENTIONS."

INTERIM CHAMPION AND ELITE FOUR CLAIM THERE IS NO NEED TO PANIC

"Would you like a drink?" I offered, awkwardly. She said nothing, so I just poured us both a glass of water and sat down opposite her at the kitchen table. She picked up her glass and drained half of it in one gulp, tipping her head back and closing her eyes as she swallowed. I slid my Pokénav off the kitchen counter, glanced at the screen- it was bursting with messages- and turned it off.

"Thanks," she said, belatedly, and folded her hands together at the edge of the table. She refused to look at me. I wanted to reach out and tip her chin up, meet her eyes, but I didn't dare touch her; after weeks of not knowing whether she was alive or dead, I was irrationally anxious that my fingers would break her, that my gaze would shatter her. It was odd that while she'd been gone, I'd been too busy worrying about the mess she had left behind to realize how much not being with her hurt, and that her return had hit me with all those emotions I hadn't been feeling. All of a sudden, I was drowning, and she didn't care.

My throat hurt so much I couldn't speak- I was worried that everything I knew I shouldn't say would come spilling out if I even opened my mouth- so I waited for her. She took her time, playing with her own hands, lingering for so long that I considered calling the League after all. But every time I thought I should, she'd take a quick, nervous breath, or push a lock of hair behind her ear, or the corner of her mouth would move, and I'd find that I couldn't bear to do it while she had something left to say to me.

"Has the Weather Institute done it?" she finally asked.

"Yes." I drew in a difficult breath. My own voice sounded strange in my ears, in juxtaposition to hers, which I hadn't heard in person for so long. "They sent me a lot of emails about it, too. Some of them were very angry."

I'd meant to make her laugh, but instead she looked unhappy. "I'm sorry, Steven." This, I'd noticed, was a recurring pattern- I'd try and make her laugh with some dumb comment, and she'd take it too seriously, and I'd feel terrible about myself. I was starting to think that perhaps I just wasn't cut out for humor; I wouldn't actually know, though, as May was the only person I ever tried to amuse. It had just panned out that way, somehow; the only person I wanted to hear laugh was a person who found my sense of humor depressing.

I couldn't bring myself to wave aside her apology. Instead, I quickly changed the subject. "They wanted to wait for you to come back, but it ended up happening anyway. They told me everything went smoothly."

May let out a long sigh. "Well, that's one thing out of my control now," she muttered, turning her head aside. I couldn't tell whether it was a statement of relief or unhappiness.

"Wait- that is what you intended, right?" I said, suddenly nervous. "For the transfer to take place?" I was struck by the thought that perhaps it hadn't been, and I'd fucked up, and May's legendary Pokémon was now somewhere it shouldn't be, and it had all happened under my watch once again. She blinked and shifted in her seat, looking undeniably anxious, and my heart froze in my chest for a moment.

"I mean- yes, that is what I intended." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "Actually, I left because I was considering reversing the decision."

I opened my mouth, but she beat me to it, speaking quickly over me. "I started thinking, what if I made the wrong decision handing over a legendary like that, you know? And then I couldn't stop thinking about it- I couldn't decide what the right thing to do would be."

I pressed my lips together, studying her pale face as she went on, suddenly talking almost frantically, as if everything was coming out at once against her will. "And then I thought, maybe there isn't a right thing to do, maybe they're both bad decisions, maybe anything I could do would lead to something bad happening- isn't that what happens when one person gets a lot of power? And I couldn't stand that, thinking about that, and knowing I'd be responsible for so much no matter what I did, so I…"

I waited.

"I ran away," she said, snorting with mirthless laughter, "and hid in a cave. And then I took enough sleeping pills to sleep through the day the move was going to happen."

"May-" I started, but she ran over me again, speaking louder now.

"Isn't that pathetic? I had to do all that just to make a decision," she said, sounding half-amused and half-disgusted. "And I thought it would be better once the thing was over and done with, but it's _not-_ it's not-"

She broke off, with a sharp intake of air, and I thought she might cry. Just for a second, though, and then she was continuing on again as relentlessly as ever.

"I keep thinking, yeah, that happened, but there's still something I could do," she said, and crushed the palm of her hand into the side of her face. Hair spilled over the back of her hand as she stared at me through the gaps in her fingers. "I could _try_ to change what happened. I could try my very best, and then maybe I'd finally feel like I'd done enough." She drew in another shuddering breath. I knew I should cut her off, comfort her, stop her, but it felt like my hands were deadbolted to the table. I couldn't move. I was bound to hear out the rest of what she had to say.

"But then, what if I succeeded?" She was still trying to keep her voice neutral, light, uncaring; it was a valiant effort, but her fingers shook nonetheless as she pressed her face into them. I wished my heart would stop beating. It was so hot and heavy in my chest, so loud in my ears by now that I could barely even hear her next words. "Then- there'd be even more to do- even more responsibility that I couldn't already handle- why couldn't I just let other people deal with it for once?" She was begging. "I don't understand why I have to feel this way!" The room was a vacuum. "I don't want to give them any more! Haven't I given enough?"

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even formulate an answer. She peeled her hand away from her face and stared at me, waiting for me to say something that would take it all away.

"May," I said, quietly-almost a whisper- just her name, and again she couldn't let me finish, couldn't seem to shake the fear that my words would bring her unshakeable pain.

"Steven- I'm so _tired,"_ she said earnestly, still with that fake lilt in her voice, a last-ditch attempt to convince me that everything was fine. Somewhere in a back corner of my mind, I was noting that this was perhaps the only time May had been incapable of lying convincingly to me, and I should pay close attention. "That's all, I'm just so _tired…"_

She looked at me as if she expected me to understand exactly what she meant. I didn't. "I'm never going to get rid of it… all these things I've done wrong," she said, shaky, smiling, "there's no way I'm ever going to escape it! Isn't that… a fine way to be brought down in the end…!"

The air was touched with cold, a pause of a touch in which neither of us moved.

"No-" I managed to say, desperately, and then she launched herself across the table and her arms were around my neck and I thought for a second she was going to choke me. She pulled me down to the floor.

"Oh, Steven, I'm so sorry," she sobbed, and she was shaking so hard that I grabbed her back and held her just as tight and hoped she wouldn't fall to pieces in my arms. "I'm so sorry. I'm so _sorry_ -"

"It's okay," I said, quickly, loudly, pressing my mouth to her ear and hoping that my words would reach her in whatever storm she was in. "You've done nothing wrong, May, you hear me? You haven't done anything wrong!"

"You're lying! Tell the truth!" I could feel her fists in the back of my shirt, her nails digging painfully through the fabric. "Don't you tell me lies, Steven Stone! Don't you lie to me, too!" She was shrieking the words, but her arms remained wrapped around me; she didn't seem to be physically capable of letting me go, but it was an angry, miserable embrace. "You don't love me! You hate me! You pity me! You-"

"I forgive you!" I yelled, and grabbed her shoulders and prised her away from me forcefully. I felt like I was drowning in the ocean; I could still feel her cold arms against the back of my neck. She stared at me, her eyes wide, her cheeks glazed with tears and mucus.

"I forgive you," I repeated, quieter, and it seemed that the sudden outburst had snapped something in the atmosphere, because suddenly we were both breathing freely again. I dragged in breath after breath, willing myself to be calm. May's shoulders heaved as she, too, fought for control, one hand drifting up to press against her cheek. She leaned into her own hand as if she was trying to hide from me.

She began to shake, and for a panicky second I wondered if she was going to burst into tears again. A second later, I realized she was laughing. Tears were rolling down her cheeks again as she laughed, the kind of laughter that's painful to watch, that goes on for far longer than it should. I wasn't sure whether to be worried or not. Was she playing some kind of game with me?

"I was so stupid, to worry about you," she said, breathlessly, and grabbed the collar of my shirt, dragging me down into a kiss. Her lips were hot and desperate against mine; I could feel her teeth drag against my skin. The sudden closeness, after so long of a time not even touching her, made my head reel. I pulled away.

"May, please calm down. You're not thinking straight," I said, quickly, grabbing both her hands. She laughed again and yanked herself out of my grasp, standing up before I could say anything else. For a second, I looked up at her from the floor, too confused and shocked to move. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, if I'd done something wrong, if I'd broken something precious beyond repair or if it was still possible to fix it.

Was this how May felt?

"I have to go," said May, "away." Hair was clinging to her damp face, and her face was red and puffy, but she was smiling; it was the kind of smile a person smiles when they know that something large and beautiful and painful is slipping away from them forever.

I looked at her. I tried to fix that smile in my head. I wanted to remember her like this, tucked all around with imperfect, emotional tells, yet somehow, suddenly, above it. Later, I would realize that this was the moment of her evolution.

"You shouldn't come with me," she said, and held out her hand. I hesitated a second, then took it. I felt something sting my palm the second I began to rise to my feet.

"Sorry," she whispered, letting go as everything began to go dark.

* * *

 _Steven,_

 _I'm not going to turn myself in. I trust you not to tell anybody you've seen me, or I'll have to run for good. All this will be over soon, so please don't worry, because you've helped me so much today. You'll know how to find me, if you still want to see me after this._

 _Love, May_

* * *

 **thanks so much for your kind attention!**

 **this is the last chapter i have complete. i think i'll manage to get ch6 (sea) out on time, but ch7 (dream) may be a few days late. this fic will definitely be finished by the end of next week.**

 **thanks so much for reading!**


	6. Day 6: Sea

**Day 6: Sea**

 _Think of flying across the **sea**. That's what wings are for._

* * *

ARE ALL POKéMON ESSENTIALLY THE SAME?

RESEARCH SHOWS POKéMON FEEL GENUINE AFFECTION FOR HUMANS; RESULTS SURPRISE NO ONE

WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO BE A TRULY GREAT POKéMON TRAINER? READ BIRCH'S ANSWER

I remember one conversation we had, weeks before this whole thing with Groudon even came to my attention.

"A sailor named Mr Briney lives here," May said, leading me down a little set of stairs onto a small beach. It was a clear summer afternoon, and together we watched the waves lap gently at the shore, the sun reflecting prettily off the water. A few Wingull soared in circles off the coast, calling to each other as they flew.

"That one's Peeko," May said abruptly, pointing to one of the Wingull.

"What?"

"Mr Briney has a Wingull named Peeko," said May, her eyes tracking the specific Wingull in the flock, although I couldn't distinguish it from the others apart from by May's attention. "They're very attached to one another. Usually, they travel together."

Impressed by her ability to pick out individual Pokémon like that, I watched the Wingull named Peeko tilt its body, riding a breeze. A Wingull was a good Pokémon for a sailor to train.

"I've never seen Peeko go far from this house, actually," May said thoughtfully, her arms crossed across her chest as she leaned on one foot. The wet sand squeaked slightly beneath our feet every time we shifted our weight. "Unless she's with Mr Briney. I wonder if she misses it?"

"The sea? Surely it's the Pokémon's choice whether she flies out to sea or not?" I asked, turning my head to look at her.

May shook her head, smiling. "Maybe it is, but for whatever reason, that Wingull chooses not to," she said. "You can make a choice not to do something and still miss it. I mean…" She turned back to survey the broad horizon. I squinted; the sun was in my eyes, throwing painful rays of light over the Wingull, over May's face, making the edges of her hair glow. "Maybe she loved Mr Briney more than her freedom."

"Maybe," I said, turning this idea over in my head. Wingulls' brains were tiny. Were they really capable of that level of decision-making?

"But think of flying across the sea," May said dreamily, her gaze going past the Wingulls' flight and out onto the vast, flat horizon line of the ocean. "All that water, no land for miles and miles. Nowhere to rest your feet at all. If you stop flying for just one second, the ocean will swallow you up." Her smile grew distant. "To do that, that's what wings are _for._ "

I hesitated, unwilling to breathe or move or think and snap her out of the state of mind she was in, whatever that was. _Flying across the sea… that's what wings are for._ What did that even mean? What was she thinking about, to put such a look into her eyes?

I couldn't fathom it, and then it was too late. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, easily looking away from the ocean as if it had never held her captive in the first place.

"Steven, what do you think? Is it better to love, or to keep your freedom?"

* * *

ATTENTION CHALLENGERS OF THE LEAGUE: INTERIM CHAMPION IS NOT AVAILABLE FOR PREVIOUSLY SCHEDULED CHALLENGES TODAY

I was thinking about that conversation because that's where I ended up finding May. Mr Briney's cottage looked more abandoned than ever, and there were no Wingull at all, but the sea and the sky were the same. Huge, wide, blue.

May had been wrong. I hadn't known where to find her, at first; the fact I'd found her at all was pure chance. I'd flown to Petalburg, first; I'd half-meant to tell her parents. When I saw them, though, sitting near the back of the gym with their shoulders folded together, I couldn't bring myself to say anything. _I trust you not to tell anybody you've seen me, or I'll have to run for good._

I had no way of knowing if she'd been bluffing or not, but if she had something planned… there had seemed to be nothing I could do to stop her. May wasn't just one person; she was a symbol of hope and inspiration, the receiver and receptacle of unquestioning loyalty and love. The people of Hoenn had noticed from the beginning how much she cared; it's hard to deny the call of being cared for, of being acknowledged and listened to and reassured, and May had done all of that inherently, unintentionally. Now, I, too, had to become a leader of the people and make a difficult decision; I had no faith in May, so I had to borrow the faith of the world.

I wondered if that had been her intention all along. In her own way, perhaps she was teaching a lesson; a lesson to Hoenn, to learn that good can leave of its own volition, and a lesson to me, to trust in the bond between us. It didn't seem that the role of teacher suited her. She had underestimated the depth of the bond she had elicited from the public, and overestimated the strength of the bond she had established with me.

She was standing by the water.

* * *

CHAMPION MAY RALLIES PROTESTERS WITH RAW, EMOTIONAL SPEECH

May glowed whenever she was with people. She seemed to draw boundless energy from their adoration; and she had little trouble getting them to adore her. Everything she said, whether it was serious or happy or tragic, was touched with a striking, resilient optimism- the hint of truth. When you listened to May speak in public, you got the feeling that here, at least, was a small piece of the truth, which was more than you'd get with anybody else these days. You felt that the truth that she was hinting at was that the world was someday destined to be complete.

I'd known people who preferred the company of Pokémon to humans, and I'd known people who were the opposite, but May loved both and all and everyone. She was so deeply invested in the continuation and improvement of the phenomenon of life. Even when I'd seen her half an hour before she made a speech, on her third cup of coffee and applying last-minute makeup to conceal the bags under her eyes, I could see the bubbling excitement beneath the exhaustion. That was what made May really great- she was genuinely excited and thrilled to work with people, and they sensed a person who would appreciate everything they were worth and latched on.

"Giving Groudon to the Weather Institute, that's a pro-human decision, isn't it?" she asked me once.

"Why do you say that?" I asked her.

She drummed her fingers on the table, her nails ragged where she'd bitten them. "Well, they'll be able to prevent Groudon from hurting any humans, even though what's more natural would be for Groudon to be free and probably harm some humans because of it. Instead of that, we're hoping it can be used to help the human species in its goals. There's the potential for controlling its incredible powers… imagine bringing sunny weather to the coldest regions, and drawing away sun from the deserts. Nobody would have to die from a volcanic eruption."

She glanced at me. "And land development. All the land destroyed by human development, Groudon could be able to undo all that. We could create infinite islands on the ocean like Pacifidlog Town." She looked down again at her hands, running a bitten nail over her wrist. "We could hold back tsunamis. We could move mountains."

"Of course," she sighed, letting her hands drop limply to the table, "it's all very dangerous and risky, but… maybe someday, less people will die because I made that decision." She paused. "Or maybe more people will die. You never know."

"I think that's much less likely," I offered.

"Hmm, do you?" She made a little humming noise, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "But that wasn't actually my point. Where was I going with this? Oh- yeah, I remember."

She flipped her hand over on the table, exposing her palm. "Does what's good for humans always have to be what's bad for Pokémon?"

"What do you mean?" I was taken aback.

"Choosing to imprison Groudon was a move I made to benefit humans," May said, staring vaguely across the table. There were no lights on in the room; cool, gradually fading light filtered in from the window, throwing silvery-blue highlights across her face. "But it hurt Pokémon. What kind of choice would benefit both humans and Pokémon? I don't know…"

"How does that choice hurt Pokémon?" I asked, after a few seconds.

"Well, Groudon is a Pokémon." She laughed, then. "I suppose I'm assuming that I know what Groudon's intentions are. I'd just figure that it would prefer to be free if it had a choice."

"Groudon is just one Pokémon, though," I said. "A lot of Pokémon would be hurt if Groudon went on a rampage, or was controlled by a group like Team Magma. Their intentions were to help humans, right?"

May frowned. "Team Magma's intentions were to help humans specifically, yeah, but they didn't hate Pokémon. I mean, Maxie owns a Crobat, and they only evolve through friendship. In this world, you can't even go far in an effort like that unless you're led by a person who understands- no, who _loves_ Pokémon."

She twisted her lower lip between her teeth. "Team Magma didn't understand that you can't tamper with the natural order of things, but they did understand that the fate of Pokémon and humans are inextricably linked. And more often than not, good for one is also good for the other… so maybe that's true here, too. Maybe humans not dying because of Groudon could be a good thing for Pokémon."

"But still, it's not good for Groudon. And it probably never will be. Can you imagine a legendary Pokémon being happy with a life like that?" May sighed, sharply, and flicked her finger against the wood of the table. "And it just -ugh- sticks in my throat a bit, I guess, that no matter _what_ happens, something, or some _one_ , has to suffer."

I didn't have an answer, there.

* * *

 **short chapter!**

 **thanks for reading.**


	7. Day 7: Dream

**Day 7: Dream**  
 _"In order to **dream** , you have to be asleep."_

* * *

As soon as I saw her, I understood what she'd meant by saying "you'll know where to find me". Something clicked into place deep inside my chest. I was shocked to the point of awe.

She looked like she'd been standing there, by the water, forever. My first instinct was to run forward and grab her, keep her from slipping out my fingers again, but when I tried to take a step I found I couldn't move.

She must have heard my gasp, and my footsteps halting, but she didn't turn. The familiar white Champion's cloak fluttered in the sea breeze behind her, its edge wet and sandy; it had always been just a little bit too long for her. She wore it as lightly as a bird would wear a pair of wings, as if all the heaviness, the responsibility and care of the position, had left it when it had touched her skin.

She had her Pokémon with her, her whole team, all of them just as motionless as she was. Six Poké Balls lay discarded on the ground at her feet; they were all broken. She'd released all her Pokémon, and they'd all chosen to stay with her. I could see from the set of her back that she had no fear they'd leave her, that relinquishing her final control over her closest friends had given her the answer she'd been looking for. Watching her like that, surrounded closely and tenderly on all sides by Pokémon, I suddenly felt that I was intruding on something deeply personal and sacred.

In the end, May's bond with her Pokémon had broken through all else; human technology, society's rituals and rules, the aching bonds of tradition, the responsibility of power and fame and love. She had truly acknowledged her Pokémon as her equals, capable of deciding their own fate, and I understood that she viewed their loyalty as a gift and not an expectation.

It was that simple. She'd never return to the wild thicket of politics, the labyrinth of fame, the sweaty glowing comfort of a crowd of people all moving with the same force- she'd never have to. She'd completed the circle, escaped cleanly out of caring about everything messy and painful and unimportant, sort of like finally leaving the ground to take to the sky for the first time.

She turned and met my eyes. She was smiling, but she didn't seem perturbed that I didn't return the smile; instead, she met all my confusion and awe and frustration- which I'm sure were painted right across my face- with a suffocating acceptance. I could see that she was happy; the difference in her face, her posture, her hands, it was unmistakable. Seeing her happy, in that one minute, it struck me that she hadn't been happy like this for - I didn't even know if I'd ever seen her happy. When she wasn't grinning for the media, or laughing at my stupid jokes, her face would fall back into unmonitored lines of desperate care. Now, every part of her seemed to be lifted up by an invisible force.

Oddly enough, I felt a sense of loss. To win back her happiness, she'd lost so much. To find peace, she'd had to cut all the ties that had made her May- that had made her lovable, imperfect, inspiring, grounded, _human._ At that moment, I think I fully accepted that I'd really fallen in love with that girl, and that I'd lost her for good. I'd had a chance to hold her back, and instead I'd let her go, and now I regretted how easily I'd chosen to do the right thing.

I think she was expecting me to try and come to her, but instead I turned and walked away. When I paused and looked back, May was flying away, the silhouettes of her and her Pokémon turning dark and small against the bright wideness of the sky. Her other five Pokémon wandered in different directions along the beach, each of them moving with an unhurried purpose.

* * *

Over the course of my relationship with May, I'd filled a lot of roles. Helper. Advisor. Challenger. Friend, for a while. Lover, briefly. But all of that, I understood, was now over. Everything faded in the face of my first debt to her; that of teacher. And there was only one lesson she'd ever asked me to give her.

This would be the last thing I could ever teach her. It was just a pity that it would hurt so much.

"Foolish boy," Maxie snapped, grabbing me by the collar and yanking me through the door, which he slammed behind me faster than I could regain my balance. "What are you _thinking,_ coming here? If you'd been seen- "

"I didn't let any of them see me," I snapped back, brushing down the front of my clothes. It hadn't been easy, either, slipping past the myriad journalists camping out at the main entrance of the Team Magma base. Everybody was looking for a statement from Team Magma on May, May's absence, May's motives, not to mention the ETPA. Letting them see Steven Stone slip into the Magma building wouldn't have been a smart move. "Contrary to your apparent beliefs, I am not completely incompetent, thanks."

"Hmph." Maxie snorted and looked me up and down, apparently unimpressed. "What's happened? If you're here because the League wants me to say something about the bloody ETPA, you can just-"

"It's not that!" I sucked in a deep breath. "It's about May."

Maxie froze momentarily, which was all the proof I'd needed.

"You helped her hide, didn't you," I said; it wasn't a question. Maxie's eyes flicked to mine, as if gauging how easy I'd be to fool, then dropped to the ground. He blew out a long, slow breath.

"We did," he admitted. "She came to me, asked me to help her disappear completely. Threatened blackmail, the whole thing. I had no choice." I wondered, staring at him, if he was ashamed. Nothing showed on his face. "She's gone now, so you're too late. I don't know where she is now, and that's the truth-"

"No, I know. I've just seen her," I interrupted, quickly. "I don't want her back. I want you to do the same thing for me that you did for her."

Maxie stared at me. I stared back, defiantly. I suppose it must have taken a moment to sink in.

"You're not kidding," he said, which was remarkably ineloquent for him. After a few seconds more of staring, in which I did not throw up my arms and yell "April Fools!" his face twitched and he turned away in apparent disgust.

"You Champions are all the same," he spat, walking in a little circle with his hands locked behind his back. "Look, I started this organization to do some good in the world, not to help flocks of rich kids bored of the spotlight go remake their identities as simple Oddish farmers in Kanto-"

"-and you ended up almost destroying the world, so I don't think you've got much right to say that about either May or me yet," I cut in, taking a step towards him. "Look, this isn't just some whim. This is for May's sake."

Another ringing silence that I hadn't intended to create.

"You are going to have to explain that one to me in a bit more detail, Steven Stone," said Maxie, after a bit of an awkward pause. He took off his glasses and polished them on the edge of his shirt. "After all, she- ah- well, correct me if I'm wrong, but is she not in love with you?"

I blinked, momentarily thrown. "She said that?"

Maxie's expression was entirely too knowing, considering the situation. "So the feeling is reciprocated?"

"I- wh- that's actually none of your business," I said lamely, frustrated with the way the conversation had spiraled out of my control. "It doesn't matter who loves who, I need to leave her life right now. Please, just take my word for it."

Maxie sighed. "And you're _completely sure_ of this very ambiguous claim that you seem to have no proof for?"

"I can't _explain_ it just like that," I snapped, out of patience. "Please just help me. I can pay you, favors or money or whatever, I-" I stopped. Maxie didn't even seem to be listening to me anymore; he was staring off into the distance, looking thoughtful. Eventually, as I stared at him, he took a remote-control device from his pocket and pointed it at the television screen on the wall, which lit up. Onscreen, May dismounted from her Pokémon and looked around, smiling serenely at the crowds of people that were gathered around her, yelling and crying and laughing. Police officers fought their way through the mob as the screen cut back to the announcer, who was sobbing.

"Ah, so that's why," Maxie muttered, half to himself, as I gazed at the screen. Abruptly, he turned to me. "She -cares for you, Steven Stone." Surprised at this seemingly incongruous statement, I looked at him. "You do realize that, right? She loves you still." He grimaced again, as if the word _love_ was bitter in his throat. "Just make sure you understand that, before you make this decision."

"So you'll help me?" I chose to ignore the rest of what he was saying, confused and frustrated by his ambiguity.

Maxie glared at me. " _Yes,_ Steven, but-"

"It's the only way," I interrupted.

Maxie gave me a really unimpressed look and turned off the TV with a harsh snap of his wrist. After the light and movement of the screen, the hallway seemed dark, throwing odd shadows into his face. I was seized with the sudden, unexplainable urge to make him understand, that the only way I could help May now was to leave her, that she needed a new start that she couldn't have as long as she held onto me. That I didn't want to do it. That I'd give anything to be able to be with her.

What came out was, "Haven't you ever been in love?"

Maxie jerked, as if I'd slapped him. "The nerve-!" He threw me a burning look; I looked back at him, torn between repentance and defiance. "But you're young still- nevertheless- the arrogance of the young is truly incredible…"

"You care about her, though- May, I mean-" I couldn't seem to keep ahold of a single conversation topic. "Do you really think someone like me would be able to put her back together? I- I can't change that much- I wish-"

I trailed off, silenced by Maxie's disgusted look.

He stared at me a moment more, in silence, then turned away and muttered something inaudible, walking away from me down the hallway. I distinctly caught the words _not worth my time._

"Are you coming, then?" he added, without turning his head. It took a minute to sink in. I shook off the odd feeling that had settled on my shoulders and ran to catch up.

"Don't worry. We, Team Magma, specialize in going underground. As long as you're sure you want to do this…"

* * *

Everything was ready. I'd written the note and left it on the table May had cried over, then packed my bags and readied my Pokémon, donating many of my rocks to the museum and my PC-stored Pokémon to a reputable rehoming organization. Maybe someday I'd come back here, but definitely not for a long time, and I preferred to travel light. I'd never been as attached to Hoenn as May was; one place was the same as another to me, and the molten core of the Earth didn't change no matter where I was.

 _Teach me how to run away._

"Are you ready yet?" Maxie called from the living room. I hesitated, then shouldered my bag and headed out of my room.

"Do you want to leave now?" he asked, one foot already halfway out the door. I took one last look at my house, which I'd never even spent much time in. The note on the table winked at me, square and white. I imagined May walking into the house and picking up the note, even though I knew that the police would undoubtedly take it and read it over a hundred times before she was even allowed to see it.

Never mind. The point was to leave as easily and lightly as possible, to distance our bond as much as possible. Even so, the thought of leaving so little of myself behind made my chest ache.

Surely love, even a love that was coming to an end, deserved a little more of a tribute.

"Wait one second," I told Maxie, who huffed impatiently and stepped back through the door. I walked over to the table and reread my note one last time, even though I'd memorized the words long before I'd set them down to paper.

 _To May,_

 _I've decided to do a little soul-searching and train on the road. I don't plan to return home for some time. May our paths cross again someday._

 _-Steven Stone_

I grabbed a Poké Ball from my belt, feeling through instinct the Pokémon I wanted. I set it down on the table, where it wobbled slightly before coming to a rest. I took the pen I'd left on the counter and scribbled a quick postscript.

 _I have a favor to ask of you. I want you to take the Poké Ball on the desk. Inside it is a Beldum, my favorite Pokémon. I'm counting on you._

I wasn't sure if May would understand what I was trying to say, but I had to hope that she would- and if not, I supposed there was no harm done. But I got the feeling that she'd remember that conversation, the one we'd had so long ago it seemed like a dream.

" _You really have taught me a lot. I do think that Steel Wing TM is symbolic."_

" _You can't do any flying with metal wings that weigh you down to the ground."_

" _Maybe I was too quick to try and fly away from everything."_

"Well, May, you're flying now, much too high for me to follow you and bring you back down," I muttered, tucking the pen in my pocket and turning away. If she understood what I was trying to say with my gift of a Beldum, she'd know that I wasn't unhappy for her.

Metal wings may hinder you if you try to flap them, but if you're magnetic they're sure to be a big help.

True flight. That's what the Beldum line employs to lift itself into the air. A kind of flight which doesn't rely on wings, but on the force of nature.

* * *

MAY, ON DISAPPEARANCE OF STEVEN STONE: "I LOVED HIM."

* * *

 **i feel like this whole story has become surreal  
anyway this is the last chapter; i really hope you enjoyed this fic!  
for more quality daiharu content, check out the #daiharuweek tag on Tumblr. thanks to soaringillusions/SamKo for organizing this event! **

**thanks for reading!**


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